Holiday Hijinks
by TVTime
Summary: A collection of short, holiday-themed stories, set in the future with the characters in their early-to-mid twenties. Story Three: "Hunter's Confession" Jeff and Hunter's relationship has always been a struggle, but after a Christmas party gone wrong Hunter has a confession to make that will irrevocably change things. Told from Jeff's POV. Romance, Angst, Fluff, & Humor. Rated M.
1. Sebastian's Secret Ingredient

**A/N: This is a collection of short, holiday-themed stories. The concept is that they will all take place at some indeterminate point in the future, roughly after the characters have finished high school and college and are in their early-to-mid twenties. With one possible exception, none of the stories in the series will feature canonical character pairings or any primary character pairings that I've written before. All stories are independent from my previous writings and also from each other, though this collection can be thought to exist within its own story universe.**

**The stories will be posted sporadically between now and New Year's 2014, and though I have story ideas and outlines for six different stories, there's no telling how many of those will actually get written, perhaps only one more, or maybe all of them. I guess we'll see. As I update the collection with each new installment I'm going to change the collection description and character pairings and genres to reflect the most recent update. For story one:**

**Title: "Sebastian's Secret Ingredient"**

**Genres: Humor, Fluff, and Romance**

**Characters: Sebastian and Nick**

**Description: Well-meaning Nick wants to make a holiday cake for his best friend Jeff, but he's going to need the help of his snarky husband, Sebastian, to keep it from turning into a disaster. Future fic. Humor, Fluff, and Romance.**

**Holiday Hijinks:**

**Sebastian's Secret Ingredient**

"I want a divorce," Sebastian stated as he sauntered into the kitchen and plunked down a heaping armload of groceries.

Nick glanced up from his position at the center island where he was measuring out flour and dumping it into a large bowl. "Did you get the eggs?"

Sebastian huffed and began digging through the bags for the requested item. "I tell you I want a divorce and you ask me for eggs?"

Nick shrugged and grinned at his husband. "I really need eggs."

Sebastian shook his head, exasperated as he crossed the room and gently set down two full cartons. He gave Nick a peck on the lips and then took a moment to wipe a smudge of flour off his cheek before he continued, "Fine, you can have all the eggs in the settlement. I get everything else – the house, our summer estate, the property in Europe, the cars, all our furniture, clothes, electronics, everything...and you get _eggs_."

Nick eyed the top carton, his face lighting up as he spied the 'Free Range – Organic' label. "Sounds fair."

Sebastian smirked at him and pressed another kiss to his lips to keep from cracking up. "I hate you."

"I love you too, Seb." Nick gave Sebastian's arm an affectionate squeeze, leaving a flour-handprint in his wake. Then he returned his attention to his 'award settlement' and popped the lid. "So what's the reason for all this maritime discontinence anyway?"

"Too much seawater probably," Sebastian deadpanned.

Nick tilted his head to the side and regarded him with confusion for a few seconds before he realized he probably hadn't asked the right question. He cracked the first egg into his bowl and shrugged. "You know what I meant."

Sebastian sniggered at him before returning to his groceries and beginning to unpack them. "The reason for our _marital discordance_ is that my goofball husband decided to give all our servants a week off at the same time, and–"

"With pay and a Christmas bonus," Nick interjected in his rarely-used firm tone of voice. Sebastian oversaw paying their staff and Nick wanted to be sure his husband was well aware of the promises he'd made.

"With pay and a Christmas bonus," Sebastian parroted in a squeaky voice, rolling his eyes. "And made _me_ go to the grocery store of all places."

"Oh, of all places!" Nick repeated with a laugh. "It was only a Whole Foods. I didn't send you to some Stop-N-Rob in the middle of the hood."

Sebastian frowned and shot Nick a dirty look. "I don't know where any of this crap goes by the way."

Nick nodded sympathetically and cracked another egg. "Yeah, me either. It took me twenty minutes just to find the mixing bowl."

"That's a salad bowl by the way," Sebastian informed him.

"Ah, but I _mixing_ in it," Nick reasoned sagely.

Sebastian sighed. "Tell me again why we couldn't just buy a damn cake and save ourselves from this ordeal?"

Nick frowned. "Because Jeffy always misses his family around the holidays, and his mom used to bake a homemade red velvet cake every year. It'll make him feel good."

"He won't feel good once he tastes it."

"Hey! I know what I'm doing," Nick countered defensively, waving his gooey mixing spoon indignantly at Sebastian and snickering when a few droplets of batter splattered across his shirt. "Besides, he'll appreciate the effort."

Sebastian gave Nick a frosty glare as he grabbed a dishtowel off the counter and began dabbing at his shirt. "Oh sure, he'll appreciate the effort...Then Hunter will have to spend the evening on his knees holding Jeff's hair back while he vomits."

"I'll take a turn with that if they're still here when he starts," Nick offered helpfully. "Anyway, I'm sure my cake won't make Jeff vomit. It's gonna be red. He loves red!"

"Yes, I'm sure that'll make all the difference."

A moment later Sebastian growled in frustration as he realized the dishtowel he'd chosen to clean his shirt with was the same one Nick had been using to wipe his hands. He was now covered in powdery, white flour.

"You should prolly go ahead and just take that shirt right off," Nick suggested with a leer – one he'd picked up from Sebastian over the years.

Sebastian rolled his eyes, but acquiesced, beginning to unbutton the garment.

"If you get any flour on my chest or stomach you're _licking_ it off," Sebastian warned as he peeled his shirt away and tossed it toward the base of the island.

"Damn right I am!" Nick declared gleefully. He scooped up a hefty lump of poorly-mixed batter and glanced back and forth between it and his husband's abs mischievously.

"Don't even think about it!" Sebastian raised his hands defensively and backpedaled.

"But– licking," Nick whined.

"Do it and those eggs are going straight back to the grocery store." Sebastian's threat was hollow. _Nothing_ was going to make him go back to that grocery store.

"Fine," Nick grumbled. "But I'm having my way with you once the cake's on the stove."

"On the stove?" Sebastian repeated, quirking an eyebrow at Nick.

"Yeah."

"Really? The stove?"

"Sebastian, I know it would be quicker, but we are _not_ serving Jeff and Hunter microwaved cake."

Sebastian chuckled. "Try again, hon." He inclined his head toward the oven.

Realization flashed across Nick's face. "Ohh! Wow, I didn't know you knew so much about cooking."

"I didn't know it was possible to look up a cake recipe and not notice anything about baking."

"I only got as far as the ingredients," Nick confided.

"Thank god we're having Christmas dinner at my dad's," Sebastian commented.

"Aww, that's so sweet that you're looking forward to spending time with him," Nick answered, smiling as he picked a few pieces of errant eggshell out of his lumpy concoction.

"I'm looking forward to spending time with Malinda's cooking," Sebastian clarified.

"Actually, once we get there I'm planning to give her the day off too," Nick stage whispered conspiratorially.

Sebastian was aghast. "You cannot give my father's maid the day off."

"Of course I can," Nick insisted. "She's like my maid-in-law. Besides, she should spend the holidays with her family."

"We are her family," Sebastian answered with a simple shrug. "She's been with us since I was eight."

"I never knew that," Nick said, smiling at the revelation and making a mental note to ask her for stories about Sebastian's childhood. "Then we'll get her to stay and eat with the rest of the family, but get everyone else to pitch in and take a turn for a change."

Sebastian laughed out loud. "Can you really imagine my dad with his hand up a turkey's ass?"

"Eww! Yuck, no! Why would he do that?" Nick asked in disgust.

"Stuffing," Sebastian responded, amused at his husband's naivete. "How can you be so obnoxiously down to Earth and yet know next to nothing about cooking?"

Nick blushed and looked away.

"Nick, how do you know so little about cooking?" Sebastian pressed, already sensing that the answer would provide him with weeks worth of teasing material.

Nick looked up reluctantly, his ears a flushed crimson. He saw the predatory mirth on his husband's face and took one last-ditch effort to save himself.

"God, Seb, you're so hot. I have to have you _now_!" Nick lunged forward, latching onto Sebastian's mouth with his lips while simultaneously beginning to unclasp his belt. Nick felt Sebastian's lips pull into a smirk as he caught Nick's hands and gently pushed him away.

"Nice try, hon. Now tell me what happened."

Sebastian rebuckled his belt, his bare stomach tensing and strong arms flexing as he did so. Nick decided it was entirely unfair that Sebastian was making him talk about this instead of christening kitchen countertop.

"It's not a big deal," Nick insisted, folding his arms and pouting. "When I was about ten I thought it would be nice to cook my parents dinner for their anniversary."

"And?"

"And...And there was a..." Nick muttered the rest indistinctly.

"A what?"

"A small, teensy weensy fire," Nick admitted, holding his thumb and forefinger together to emphasizes the diminutive nature of the blaze. After a moment he reluctantly added, "That spread to the neighbor's house."

"Oh my god! You burned down your neighborhood?!"

"NO! Just two houses, not the whole neighborhood...Nobody was hurt at least," Nick said, trying to look on the bright side. His face fell again as he reconsidered. "Well, not that time anyway."

"What do you mean not _that_ time? You started more than one fire?"

"Of course not. I wouldn't be so careless. I learned my lesson the first time."

"But?"

"_But_, a few months later, after the kitchen was rebuilt, I tried again to make a family dinner. Sort of as an apology, you know?"

"What happened?"

"Dystopia," Nick answered.

"Your cooking demoralized an entire society?"

"Oh no." Nick shook his head vigorously. "No, it just gave my dad and sister really epic diarrhea for a long time." Nick slumped against the counter, feeling horrible all over again about everything that had happened. "I thought that was called dystopia?"

"Dysentery dear," Sebastian corrected soothingly. He wrapped his arms around Nick and kissed the side of his head as he pulled him into a hug. He was _definitely_ going to make fun of Nick later, but not while he was so vulnerable.

"Anyway, after all that...my parents and Maggie wouldn't even let me go to the refrigerator for awhile without supervision. Definitely no cooking." Nick squeezed Sebastian close and nuzzled into his neck, enjoying the warmth and comfort that were radiating off of him.

Sebastian stroked his back, but quietly pressed on, trying to get to the bottom of Nick's renewed interest in the culinary arts. "So you thought baking Jeff a cake and trying to cook our families Christmas dinner would–"

"Would be the perfect way to do something nice while finally proving that I could handle food responsibly!" Nick finished enthusiastically.

"I see," Sebastian answered carefully. He gently grabbed Nick's shoulders and eased him back to make eye contact. "But do you think perhaps food poisoning isn't quite the best gift to give all of our loved ones this holiday season?"

Nick frowned and scrunched up his face as he thought it over. "Maybe gift cards?"

"Yeah, maybe gift cards." Sebastian nodded, relieved that Nick seemed willing to abandon his ill-conceived plan. He wasn't keen to spend New Year's in the hospital with a fluid drip.

"But what about Jeffy's cake?" Nick asked with concern. "He has one every year to feel better."

"But he hasn't seen his parents since–"

"My mom usually makes it for him," Nick explained. "But I told her not to this year and made a big deal about how I was going to do it. Seb, he _has_ to have one. This would be the first year he didn't. Then he'd be all sad about his stupid, evil family, and it would be all my fault. And he would get that quivery look on his face and–"

"Nick." Sebastian held up his hands, resigned to his fate. "I'll bake it for him." Sebastian smirked and added, "That's _baking_, because people _bake_ cakes. In the _oven_."

"Aww, you're the best, Seb!" Nick threw his arms around him again and hugged him close. As he let go he ran his hand across Sebastian's sculpted chest and down the line of his taut stomach. "I am _so_ licking you later."

Sebastian laughed. "Yes. Yes you are."

"Have you ever baked anything before?" Nick inquired.

"No," Sebastian answered. "But I already have a secret ingredient in mind."

"Is it love?" Nick asked, smiling sweetly as Sebastian stepped around him and returned to his groceries. He picked up an unmarked bag.

"It's rum!" Sebastian corrected, withdrawing the bottle.

Nick chuckled and pressed a kiss to his husband's smirking lips. "You're absolutely incorruptible, Sebastian."

"I think you mean 'incorrigible,' Nick."

"Nope, pretty sure I got that one right."

Sebastian rolled his eyes as he looked up 'red velvet rum cake' on his phone. He'd already survived going to a grocery store; how much more difficult could this be?

**-000-**

**End Note: I hope you guys enjoyed this story. I'd appreciate some feedback on which story you guys would like to see next. The tentative story titles and characters:**

"**Hunter's Confession" - Jeff/Hunter**

"**Kurt's Musical Meltdown" - Kurt/Blaine, Sam/Blaine**

"**Santana's Special Opening" - Santana/Rachel**

"**Jake's Missed Opportunity" - Ryder/Unique, Jake**

"**Puck's Enterprise" - Puck/Brody**

**Please let me know which one you would like to see next. I'd also really love to hear what you thought of this first installment. **


	2. Kurt's Musical Meltdown

**A/N: I want to take a moment to thank Simon for the outstanding story cover he did for the story after "Sebastian's Secret Ingredient." I was utterly blown away by the level of detail, the absolute adorableness, and his general phenomenal talent. **

**Here's story two in the Holiday Hijinks Collection...Just don't take it too seriously ;-)**

**Title: "Kurt's Musical Meltdown"**

**Genres: Romance, Angst, Drama, Dark/Absurdist Humor**

**Characters: Kurt, Blaine, Sam, Cooper**

**Description: Blam and Klaine collide in this Christmas themed tale of romance, betrayal, and revenge. Tune in for Kurt's musical meltdown. Romance, Angst, Drama, Dark/Absurdist Humor. Rated M.**

**Holiday Hijinks:**

**Kurt's Musical Meltdown**

Sam was listening to 'Jingle Bell Rock' on his computer and strumming along with his guitar when the doorbell rang. He glanced at the the clock and grinned: it was 4:47pm and he had a pretty good idea who his caller was. He quickly set aside his guitar and switched off his speakers as he eagerly rose to answer the door.

"Hey dude," Sam greeted with forced casualness, steeping aside so that Blaine could enter his home. Blaine lived next door and he often showed up around this time when he had decided to leave work early.

"Hi Sam," Blaine responded, his voice heavy and slow from a combination of stress and exhaustion.

Sam stole a glance at Blaine's driveway and was pleased to note that Kurt's car was no where in sight. His stomach flipped in anticipation as he shut and locked the front door. Before Blaine could make it all the way into the living room Sam had pounced, pinning Blaine against the wall. Long blond bangs partially obscured Sam's glittering green eyes as he held Blaine's hips in place. He shot Blaine a mischievous, crooked grin and then ground his body hard against Blaine's, angling his pelvis to get the maximum amount of rough friction.

"Eughn," Blaine moaned involuntarily into Sam's ear. Then he sighed, feeling the weight of his day bearing down on him again. He placed a hand on Sam's chest and slowly but firmly pushed him away.

"What's wrong?" Sam asked, giving Blaine's back a few soothing rubs as they took the last few steps into the living room and collapsed onto Sam's raggedy old sofa.

"Work stuff," Blaine muttered as he shuffled across the cushion and against Sam's side. Blaine scrubbed a frustrated hand across his face as Sam wrapped an arm around his shoulders. "And Kurt. We had another fight this morning...that we continued over the phone at lunch."

"What about?"

Blaine tensed, but answered, "He thinks I'm cheating on him."

"Oh," Sam answered noncommittally, dreading what might be coming next.

"Sam, I think we should stop. I don't want to but..." Blaine trailed off, unsure how to finish. "I just don't know how we even got here, how any of this started. I can't leave him, but you, you're so..."

Sam let out an amused little snicker as Blaine raked his eyes – and his hands – down the length of Sam's body. The caress started with Sam's chest and ended with one hand on Sam's inner thigh while the palm of Blaine's other hand pressed against the tent in Sam's jeans.

"So fun?" Sam offered, cocking his head to the side and grinning as he bucked against Blaine's hand.

"Fun's definitely one word for it," Blaine admitted, gripping Sam's length through his jeans.

"Then let's go," Sam whispered into Blaine's ear before drawing Blaine's earlobe into his mouth and lightly suckling and nipping at it.

"I don't know...mmmaybe we shouldn't," Blaine answered hesitantly, tilting his head to the side to give Sam full access and trying to remember why any of this was such a bad idea.

Blaine felt like between work, Kurt, their mortgage and car payments, the stupid Christmas musical Kurt had signed them up for, and the general daily grind that Sam was the only relaxing, purely fun thing in his life. He didn't want to give that up.

Sam released Blaine's ear and cupped his face, smiling at him a moment before leaning in and initiating a kiss that lasted several seconds. When it was over Sam reached past Blaine and grabbed his guitar from where it was resting propped against the side of the sofa.

"You don't know how you met me," Sam sang as he began to strum the instrument. "You don't know why, you can't turn around and say goodbye."

"Really Sam, Uncle Kracker?" Blaine teased, shaking his head at the selection.

All you know is when I'm with you, I make you free – from your pants," Sam sang, improvising the additional lyric and waggling his eyebrows comically. Blaine chuckled but didn't react so Sam repeated insistently, "From your pants, Blaine."

Blaine rolled his eyes but unbuttoned his pants. He arched his hips and peeled the slacks down his legs, allowing them to fall to the floor around his ankles and leaving him sitting on the sofa in just his briefs. He began slowly stroking himself through the thin cotton, quickly transforming his limp dick into a semi-hardon.

Sam watched the show with satisfaction for a few seconds before continuing his performance.

"And swim through your veins like a fish in the sea.

I'm singin',

Follow me everything is alright."

Blaine felt himself relaxing. He wanted to believe that everything was alright. That his life wasn't a complicated mess and that he didn't have to hide the affair he was having with his best friend from his husband.

"I'll be the one to tuck you in at night," Sam sang, giving Blaine a meaningful look. He felt his chest swell at the idea of having Blaine around more, of taking care of him at night and being there to make him feel safe.

"And if you want to leave,

I can guarantee,

You won't find nobody else like me."

Blaine swallowed, uncomfortable with the raw emotion in Sam's voice. Things were getting too serious and Blaine needed to lighten them up. He stood, toed off his shoes, and kicked them and his pants away. Then he crossed the short distance to Sam and knelt in front of him. Now that his own pants were off, he was intent on likewise relieving his lover of some of the extraneous clothing he was wearing.

Blaine paused abruptly, his fingers on the fly of Sam's jeans.

"I'm not worried 'bout the ring you wear," Sam sang, tracking Blaine's gaze to the shiny band. "Cuz as long as no one knows then nobody can care."

Blaine licked his suddenly-too-dry lips. He stroked his hand along the outline of Sam's cock, listened to the accusing sound of metal on denim and wondered, just as he did every time, what the hell he was doing.

"You're feelin' guilty and I'm well aware," Sam sang softly. "But you don't look ashamed and baby I'm not scared."

Blaine nodded. His decision was made and he was going to enjoy it dammit. He quickly and decisively tore open Sam's jeans and yanked them and his boxer briefs down in one firm tug, almost taking Sam down in the process. He eyed Sam's erection greedily; Blaine was ever the cock enthusiast.

"I'm singin',

Follow me everything is alright.

I'll be the one to–

FUCK!" Sam gasped as Blaine's hot mouth engulfed him, swallowing him to the hilt in one sure, fluid movement.

"Won't give you money.

I can't give you the sky."

Sam moaned between lyrics. The expert blowjob Blaine was giving him certainly deserved granting him the sky.

"I'm not the reason that you go astray and,

We'll be all right if I don't ask you to stay."

Sam allowed his guitar to slowly slip from his hands. He wanted to cringe at the unhealthy sound it made as it collide with the floor, but then suddenly Blaine's fingers were pressing deep into his crack, roughly pulling him closer, and Blaine's nose was digging into Sam's pelvis so hard that Sam thought it might leave a bruise – and suddenly Sam's guitar was forgotten as he gripped the back of Blaine's head and began abusing the back of his throat.

**-000-**

Kurt checked the time on his phone as he pulled up to his house: 5:53pm. Blaine didn't usually get home until after 6:30pm, and yet there was his car, parked in its 'usual place' next door in Sam's driveway. Kurt frowned.

He didn't know when Blaine had begun cheating on him. He also couldn't place the precise moment when his suspicion had shifted from an occasional random, and completely ludicrous, passing notion into an actual niggling suspicion. Nor could he say for sure when that suspicion had grown into near certainty. As he sat in his car staring at Sam's front door through blurry eyes, all he could really say for sure was when Blaine had lied to him: that had happened at 12:18pm when Blaine had told him that he was going to be working late tonight.

Kurt had lied too, before Blaine in fact. He had said that he was going to be meeting with the costume manager for their Christmas musical after he got off work. It hadn't taken Blaine long to chime in about his supposed increased workload at the firm. Strange, Kurt had thought, since Blaine's business usually slacked off around the holidays.

And now Kurt was walking on wobbly legs up the pathway that led to Sam's hideously adorned front door. _Rudolph jumping through a wreath, what type of person would even buy such a monstrosity? Oh right, the type of perpetual man-child who takes a decade longer than anyone else to work out his sexuality and then latches onto someone else's husband._

Kurt gritted his teeth as he fished the spare key Sam had given him from his pocket. The couple had likewise given Sam a copy of their key shortly after their high school friend had moved into the neighborhood. At the time Kurt had assumed the key would be used for dropping off Sam's mail or watering his plants when he went out of town. He thought perhaps they might come to the ditzy blond's rescue one evening when he locked himself out after a jog. Kurt certainly hadn't foreseen that he would be using the key to quietly creep into Sam's home so that he could try to catch his adultering husband and so-called friend in the act of betraying him.

It didn't take Kurt long to spot them. Blaine was bent over the couch receiving an energetic railing from Sam. Kurt stood there, seething with rage, expecting them to notice him. Instead Sam leaned over Blaine's back and said something into his ear that Kurt couldn't hear. A moment later they had separated and were laughing and giggling as they ran into the adjoining kitchen, still unaware of Kurt lurking near the front door.

Kurt stood in shock for a few seconds before he heard the sounds of more moaning and panting coming from the kitchen. He tiptoed closer and eased the door open a small crack.

And there was Blaine's crack. The fornicating friends had switched things up and Kurt now found himself gazing directly at his husband's ass as he fucked Sam missionary style, drawing a long string of desperate, mostly nonsensical expletives out of him. _Yes,_ Kurt thought _apparently Blaine's fucking cock is fucking OH-GODDAMN-RIGHT-THERE! Nice observation, Sam._

Kurt cleared his throat.

They still didn't notice him. They were utterly engrossed in each other. Kurt felt a jealous sting as he thought about the distracted way Blaine had been making love to him over the course of this past year. Was this what Blaine was thinking about when he had that faraway look in his eyes?

Three rooms and another role reversal later and Blaine finally squealed and shot his load all over his neck and chest. Sam finished moments later, screaming Blaine's name and collapsing on top of him. It was then that the satisfied lovers finally pried their eyes away from each other. Almost in unison they looked up and saw Kurt standing by the bedroom door.

"Oh my god! This isn't how it looks!" Blaine shouted as he scrambled off the bed and began frantically flicking cum off his collarbone.

"Dude, I don't think he's gonna buy that," Sam whispered, kneeling on the edge of the bed behind Blaine.

Blaine flinched away when Sam put a hand on his shoulder.

"Kurt, I...This was..." Tears stung Blaine's eyes. He felt like his entire world was collapsing. He grabbed a discarded towel from Sam's bedroom floor and ran out of the room. He couldn't do this. He had to be anywhere else, anywhere besides standing naked and dirty in a room between his husband and his lover.

Kurt didn't chase after Blaine, hardly reacted when he heard the front door slam shut. His fiery gaze was instead locked on Sam. The blond was sitting meekly on the bed with his head hanging. He reminded Kurt of a naughty child waiting to be scolded and for a few moments Kurt wasn't sure what to say to him, wasn't sure what they could possibly have say to each other after all this. Then Kurt drew in a long, deep breath and steeled himself, calling on every once of strength and pride that he had remaining.

"I've known about you for a while now," Kurt said, his voice soft and melodious.

"Why didn't you–"

Kurt cut him off, singing a cappella when he continued. He knew full well that Sam would recognize the song.

"When he leaves me, he wears a smile now.

As soon as he's, away from me,

In your arms is where he wants to be."

Sam smiled laconically. Of course they were going to do this through song. How else?

"But you're the one he rushes home to," Sam admitted, his chest closing in on him. "You're the one he gave his name to.

"I never see his face in the early morning light.

You have his mornings, his daytimes,

And sometimes I have his nights."

"But does he love you?" Kurt sang with a sneer.

"Does he love _you_?" Sam countered, folding his arms across his chest.

"Like he loves me," Kurt continued.

"Like he loves me," Sam insisted.

"Does he think of you?"

"Does he think of you?"

"When he's holding me," they sang together, each imaging Blaine's arms around him.

"And does he whisper?"

Kurt thought about all the evenings he and Blaine had shared having quiet conversation in restaurants, walking around their neighborhood, staying up in bed together talking with the lights off.

"Does he whisper?"

Sam thought back to the first time he and Blaine had kissed. He remembered how he had mumbled apologies, only to have Blaine whisper that it was okay and kiss him back.

"All his fantasies," they both sang, each lost in thought.

"_Does_ he love you?" Kurt asked, sincerely curious for the first time.

"Does he love you?" Sam asked, legitimately wondering what was left between the couple.

"Like he's been lovin' me," they harmonized.

"But when he's with me," Sam sang as the passion rose in his voice. He was more than prepared to make his case for the man he loved. "He says he needs me. And that he wants me." Sam paused and took an emotional breath. "That he believes in me."

"And when I'm in his arms, oh he _swears_ there's no one else." Kurt took a shuttering breath and fought back tears. "Is he deceiving me? Or am I deceiving myself?

"But does he love you? (Does he love you?)  
Like he loves me (Like he loves me)  
Does he think of you? (Does he think of you?)  
When he's holding me,  
And does he whisper (Does he whisper) all his fantasies?  
Does he love you? (Does he love you?)

Like he's been lovin' me."

Kurt moved closer to Sam, hands clenched into fists as he hovered over him. "Oh, I should not loose my temper."

"Oh, I should not be ashamed," Sam answered, rising to his feet in all his naked glory and staring Kurt down.

"'Cause I have everything to loose," Kurt sang.

"And I, I have nothing to gain," Sam responded.

"But does he love you? (Does he love you?)  
Like he loves me (Like he loves me)  
Does he think of you? (Does he think of you?)  
When he's holding me,  
And does he whisper (Does he whisper) all his fantasies?  
Does he love you? (Does he love you?)

Like he's been lovin' me."

**-000-**

Blaine drove across town in a daze, desperate to get away from the nightmare he found himself in.

"Coop, open up," Blaine said as he pounded on his brother's hotel room door. Cooper was in town for Christmas, and though Blaine was dubious that he would be able to offer very good advice, he had to talk to someone. Besides, Cooper was the only person he knew who wouldn't take either Kurt's or Sam's side, and who wouldn't judge him too harshly.

"What do you want, little brother?" Cooper asked as he opened the door. He did a double take when he saw Blaine. "And why are you wearing a towel?"

"Kurt just caught me," Blaine explained, pushing past his brother so that he could get into the room. He wasn't eager to spend longer than necessary semi-nude in a hotel hallway.

"You let him catch you?!"

"I don't know how I let this happen," Blaine answered.

"With who?"

"Sam, the guy next door, you know," Blaine said, grabbing the hotel-provided robe from Cooper's wardrobe and slipping it on.

"Aww man," Cooper sympathized.

"I don't know what to do," Blaine whined.

Cooper shrugged and laughed. "Say it wasn't you."

"Oh right." Blaine rolled his eyes and sunk despondently onto the bed.

Cooper got a glint in his eye and quickly selected the song he wanted from his computer. He cranked up the volume.

Blaine groaned when he heard the selection.

"Just go with it," Cooper insisted.

Blaine sighed but began to sing, tweaking the lyrics slightly as he went to make it fit his situation.

"Kurt came in and he caught me red-handed,

Creeping with the boy next door.

Picture this, we were both butt naked, banging on the bathroom floor."

Blaine felt himself blushing. He and Sam had indeed ended up on the bathroom floor for awhile there.

"How could I forget that Sam had,

Given him an extra key?

All this time he was standing there,

He never took her eyes off me."

Cooper cut in with some advice.

"Deny everything. Point constantly and speak very loudly so that he knows you mean it.

"To be a true playa, have to know how to play.

Never admit to a word that he say.

If he say it's night then convince him that it's day.

If he say you cheated, tell him baby, no way."

"But he caught me on the counter," Blaine pointed out.

"Wasn't me," Cooper sang, shaking his head.

"He saw me bangin' on the sofa."

"Wasn't me!" Cooper chanted loudly, pointing.

"I even had him in the shower."

"Wasn't me!"

"He even caught me on camera."

"Wasn't me!" Cooper shouted, gesticulating wildly.

"He saw the marks on my shoulder."

"Wasn't me!"

"Heard the words that I told him."

"Wasn't me!"

"Heard the screams gettin' louder."

"Wasn't me!"

Blaine hung his head and admitted, "He stayed until it was over."

"I had tried to keep him,

From what he was about to see.

Why should he believe me,

When I tell him it wasn't me?"

Cooper grabbed his shoulders and shook him. He sang insistently,

"Make sure he knows it's not you and lead him on the right pretext,

Whenever he should see you, show him your chest and maybe flex,

As funny as it be to you, it not that complex

Seeing is believing so he better change his specs."

"But he caught me on the counter."

"Wasn't me!"

"He saw me bangin' on the sofa."

"Wasn't me!"

"I even had him in the shower."

"Wasn't me!"

"He even caught me on camera."

"Wasn't me!"

"He saw the cum on my shoulder."

"Wasn't me!"

"Heard the words that I told him."

"Wasn't me!"

"Heard the screams getting louder."

"Wasn't me!"

"He fuckin' stayed until it was over."

**-000-**

Kurt's car screeched to a halt in front of his driveway, the many canisters of fluid in his back seat jostling and clanking together. He took a draught from the silver flask he was holding then grabbed the newly-purchased pack of cigarettes from the passenger seat. He lit one up, coughed, and peered pensively through the windshield at the fading sun.

"I'm waitin' on the sun to set, 'cause yesterday ain't over yet."

There was still a little bit of daylight, but he could start in the houses, away from prying eyes. He took another long drag from the cigarette then let it dangle from his lips as he reached into the back for the first two cans of kerosene.

"I started smoking cigarettes. There's nothing else to do I guess."

Kurt hurried into his house. Blaine's things were already arranged in a pile on the living room floor. He began dousing the mound of bow ties, hair gel, and the few other sundry goods Blaine owned with the flammable fluid.

"Dusty roads aint made for walking. Spinning tires aint made for stoppin'."

Kurt made another trip to the car and retrieved more kerosene. He made sure to spread an ample amount through every room in the house.

"I'm giving up on love, 'cause love's given up on me."

By the time he went outside for the third time the sun had fully set. He went to the garage and got the spray hose.

"I gave it everything I had and everything I got was bad."

Kurt showered the first side of his house with kerosene, sprayed the nearby trees and bushes, and then the front lawn.

"Life aint hard, but it's too long to live it like some country song."

After he had finished preparing his home he got more kerosene and set to work on Sam's house.

"Trade the truth in for a lie. Cheatin' really ain't a crime."

Kurt growled as he saturated the bed he had watched Blaine and Sam fucking on not twenty-four hours earlier. He was done with Blaine's lies. Cheating wasn't technically a crime, at least not in the eyes of the law. If Kurt didn't punish them, who would?"

"I'm giving up on love, 'cause love's given up on me."

It was Blaine's fault that it had come to this. Blaine had given up first. What was Kurt supposed to do, beat his head against the wall? Kurt finished preparing the rest of Sam's house in a manic haze and then went out to Blaine's car, armed with more of his trusty problem solvent.

"Forget your high society; I'm soakin' it in kerosene."

Kurt's eyes narrowed on Blaine's precious Corvette and he wasted no time in soaking the exterior and interior in copious amounts of kerosene.

"Light 'em up and watch them burn. Teach them what they need to learn, HA!"

When the can he was using ran dry he used the empty container to bust the car's windows. In retrospect Kurt could relate to Mercedes' actions all those years ago; this did feel good.

"Dirty hands aint made for shakin'. Ain't a rule that ain't worth breakin'."

Kurt wiped his hands on his pants and dug Blaine's car keys out of his pocket.

"Well I'm giving up on love, 'cause love's given up on me."

He walked slowly toward the trunk of Blaine's car. He took a deep breath and steadied himself.

"Now I don't hate the one who left."

Kurt glanced nervously over his shoulder to make sure no one was around. Then he popped the trunk.

"You can't hate someone who's dead."

Tears stung Kurt's eyes and he punched Blaine's corpse in the face.

"He's out there holding on to someone. I'm holding up my smoking gun."

Kurt glanced over a few inches and scowled at Sam's corpse. Then he pulled the handgun out his pocket and tossed it into the trunk with the bodies. Next he doused the entire scene in two more cans of kerosene.

"I'll find somewhere to lay my blame the day he changes his last name."

Kurt sneered. If Sam wanted him so badly he could have him. They could be together in death. Kurt slammed the trunk shut and then used more kerosene to connect multiple thick swaths of fluid between the two houses and Blaine's car, creating one giant burn zone.

"Well I'm giving up on love, 'cause love's given up on me."

As a final act of revenge Kurt wrenched Sam's inane Reindeer wreath off his front door and placed it squarely at ground zero. Rudolph's nose would sure as hell be red when Kurt was done with it. He pulled the matches out of his pocket.

"Well I'm giving up on love. HEY, love's given up on me."

Kurt struck the match.

**-000-**

"Ennh!" Kurt jolted awake with a start. He was lying on the couch in his living room by the Christmas tree.

At the sound of his abrupt rousing, Blaine and Sam turned to look at him. They were standing at the edge of the room under a sprig of mistletoe. Their arms were around each other and they had clearly just kissed.

Kurt sat up angrily and raised an accusing finger at Sam. "What is _he_ doing here."

"Kurt, just calm down," Blaine said as he let go of Sam's waist.

"NO!" Kurt screeched standing up and storming toward Sam. "I do not want him in this house. He's tacky and he represents everything I hate."

"But I've had him for years," Sam whined, his full bottom lip jutting out in an exaggerated pout. He glanced over his shoulder at the wreath, which was hanging on the wall behind them. "And how can you hate Rudolph?"

"He's part of a fictional story that adults use to brainwash children into believing in the occult."

"Pleeeeeese. Just for today, 'cause it's Christmas?"

Kurt huffed and rolled eyes.

"Fine, he can stay. But _just _for today," Kurt said grudgingly. He placed a kiss on Sam's lips just as they shifted from pitiful pout to beaming grin. "You're lucky I love you, Sam."

"I'm the luckiest ever!" Sam declared with a nod. He kissed Kurt again and then pulled Blaine in close for a three-way embrace.

**-000-**

**End Note: Since it's a holiday piece and all I decided to give the boys a happy ending, or more likely they gave it to each other after the curtain fell. The songs used were:**

**"Follow Me" by Uncle Kracker, performed by Sam**

"**Does He Love You?" By Reba Mcentire & Linda Davis, performed by Kurt & Sam**

**"It Wasn't Me" by Shaggy, performed by Blaine**

**"Kerosene" by Miranda Lambert, performed by Kurt**

**I got two requests for the Jeff/Hunter piece, so that will definitely be the next one. I expect to get that one posted by New Year's, but probably not anymore. If I do end up doing a fourth Christmas/New Year's story it'll be the Ryder/Unique and Jake story. **

**I hope you guys are enjoying this silly little holiday collection. I find that I quite enjoy writing one shots to commemorate holidays, and since this is just called "Holiday Hijinks" rather than referring to a specific holiday, I think I might make it an on-going thing with more one shots coming for other holidays.**

**Anyway, please let me know what you thought of this one if you get the chance!**


	3. Hunter's Confession - Part 1

**A/N: The story ended up being much longer than the other two. As such I've decided to split it in half. I'm going to try to get the other half finished and posted as soon as possible. **

**Title: "Hunter's Confession"**

**Genres: Romance, Angst, Fluff, Humor**

**Characters: Jeff and Hunter**

**Description: Jeff and Hunter's relationship has always been a struggle, but after a Christmas party gone wrong Hunter has a confession to make that will irrevocably change things. Romance, Angst, Fluff, Humor. Rated M.**

**Holiday Hijinks:**

**Hunter's Confession – Part 1**

Jeff sighed with displeasure as he examined himself in the full-length mirror that was propped against his bedroom wall. He was wearing jeans and a long-sleeve, red button-down shirt, and though red was his favorite color he was worried about the message it would send. It was Christmas Eve and he was going to a Christmas party. If he wore red wouldn't it look like he was trying too hard to be festive?

"ENNNHH."

At the sound of Hunter's frustrated grumble Jeff flinched and fumbled with the button he was undoing. He looked at him apologetically in the mirror and then yanked the shirt up over his head instead of unbuttoning it the rest of the way.

"Just one more shirt, I promise." Jeff knew his words were probably muffled by the garment, which was now tangled around his head. His cheeks burned with a blush as he struggled to get his chin free.

The next thing Jeff knew Hunter's heavy hands were wrapping around his bare abdomen. He simultaneously felt two conflicting urges: to relax and lean back against his boyfriend's chest and let him get the accursed shirt loose, and to tense and pull away, unsure what Hunter would do while he was helpless.

"You've already tried on five shirts and three pairs of pants," Hunter's voice purred, somewhere between angry and amused.

"Sixth shirt's the charm?" Jeff offered feebly, arms hanging limply over his head. He was too worried about accidentally hitting Hunter in the face to continue trying to free himself from his crimson prison.

Hunter grunted and lowered his hands from Jeff's stomach to the fly of his jeans, thumb grazing over the line of hair on Jeff's pelvis and scraping against the sensitive skin there. Jeff drew in a sharp breath.

"Wha-what are you doing?" Jeff protested, trying unsuccessfully to turn around in Hunter's arms. "I already decided on the jeans. These are definitely the ones."

"Let me tell you how this is going to go," Hunter said smoothly as he finished opening Jeff's pants and slid a hand into his underwear. "You're going to get on the bed. I'm going to fuck all the anxiety out of you. You're going to put on whatever clothes I pick out for you. Then we're going to leave."

"Hunt, it doesn't really work that way. I'm _still_ going to be nervous," Jeff said, turning his head and talking to his boyfriend normally, as though he weren't still wearing a button-down as a face mask. He already knew he wasn't going to prevail. Hunter usually got what he wanted. Case in point, he had already gotten Jeff hard and thinking about getting fucked.

"Shut up," Hunter answered, pulling the shirt away from Jeff's head in one easy tug, then shoving him onto the bed.

**-000-**

Jeff huffed and gave Hunter a frosty glare as they walked out of their apartment.

"I can't believe you're making me wear this. You really think I look even halfway good in _this_?" Jeff was wearing one of Hunter's ugly Christmas sweaters. It was green with a reindeer and Santa embroidered on it. It was also already too loose for the more muscular Hunter; it swallowed Jeff completely.

"No, not really. Maybe a little bit cute in a nine-year-old-on-Christmas-morning kind of way, but not at all sexy."

"Then why–"

Hunter slapped his ass and hustled him toward the car. "I already got off. You don't have to look good anymore for the rest of the night – well maybe when we get home if I'm feeling frisky again – but this way other people won't look at you."

"You're unbelievable."

Hunter gave him a crooked grin. "I know. You moaned that not fifteen minutes ago."

Jeff blushed and involuntarily focused on the satisfied, well-fucked throb in his ass. He was about to respond to Hunter's remark when the sound of glass breaking against concrete pierced the air, followed shortly thereafter by raucous shouting.

Jeff raised his eyes nervously to Hunter. His boyfriend's grin had faded and his posture had tensed, prepared for danger. He wrapped an arm around Jeff's waist and pulled him flush against his body as he hurriedly unlocked the passenger side of the car with his other hand.

"Get in," Hunter barked, eyes cast over his shoulder toward the source of the conflict. Jeff was barely in his seat before Hunter had slammed the door shut and was hurrying around the car to take his place in the driver's seat.

Jeff chanced an anxious look toward the small mob of men that had clustered on the edge of the parking lot. They weren't much younger than himself and Hunter, their ages mostly seeming to span from late-teens to early-twenties. Jeff couldn't help but suspect they were part of a gang. It was difficult for Jeff to determine what exactly was happening, but they had formed a loose, agitated circle and they seemed to be hollering provocations and encouragement toward a pair facing off in the center.

Jeff pulled his cell phone out of his pocket, intent on calling the police.

"Don't," Hunter snapped, pulling the device away and sliding it up between his legs and the seat. He quickly started the car and threw it in reverse.

"We should report it. Someone might get really hurt..." Jeff's stomach clinched with anxiety as he finished in a soft voice, "or even killed."

"Yeah, and that someone might be us if they noticed us leaving and then the cops show up."

Jeff trembled and a wave of nausea crashed over him. Hunter was right. A thick silence settled over the car as Hunter drove swiftly down the side street that would take them out of the neighborhood. Jeff pondered how strange it was that he was relieved to be _leaving_ his home. A naturally shy person, home had always been his sanctuary, but then he had never lived somewhere like this before.

"I am going to get us out of here," Hunter stated, his face a mask of determination. "We're going to live somewhere nice and you're going to have everything you want."

Jeff sighed and placed a tentative hand on Hunter's knee, hoping to calm him. "We could just–"

"Jeff," Hunter cut him off, his voice a sharp edge. He shot Jeff a warning look, unmistakably insisting that he abandon his line of thought.

Jeff withdrew his hand from Hunter's leg and peered distractedly out of his window at the run down buildings as they stopped at the first red light and then turned onto the road that would take them to the freeway. He was silent for a few seconds, gathering his thoughts and his resolve. He hated to upset Hunter, but this was about their safety.

"Nick and Seb have plenty of room." Jeff spoke abruptly, blurting the sentence before Hunter had a chance to silence him again or tune him out.

"We don't need _Sebastian's_ money," Hunter growled.

"Then my parents–"

"They're not your parents, Jeff. FUCK, when are you going to grow up and stop relying on Nick and his family for everything? You're _my_ responsibility. Not theirs."

Hunter's tone could only be described as venomous and Jeff felt stung. He crossed his arms and turned in his seat, glaring at Hunter. "That's not true. They are my family and that's what families do. They rely on each other and take care of each other.

"_I'm_ your family," Hunter countered, seldom-heard emotion and uncertainty leaking into his voice. It made Jeff's heart skip a beat and snuffed out most of his rage in an instant.

"Of course you are, Hunt," Jeff answered, dropping a gentle hand on Hunter's arm.

"Then let me take care of you," Hunter said, his tone still unguarded.

"Okay," Jeff answered softly, unwilling to continue arguing and risk hurting his boyfriend.

Jeff stroked Hunter's arm, trying to calm him down. Eventually he relaxed slightly and placed his hand over Jeff's on his arm. Jeff took the opportunity to lace their fingers together. "I love you."

Hunter didn't answer right away, but eventually mumbled, "You too," under his breath and pulled his hand away.

Jeff smiled softy and shifted in his seat so that he was facing forward again, but he continued to study Hunter out of the corner of his eye. Jeff was scared about their living situation, but as difficult as it was, he felt like Hunter expressing his feelings at all was a small victory worth celebrating.

Their relationship had never been easy. They had first started dating during their senior year at Dalton, and during those early months it hadn't really been a relationship at all, at least not one that Hunter would acknowledge. He had insisted that he wasn't actually attracted to Jeff, that the things that had happened between them weren't going to happen again, and that the only reason they had happened at all was because Hunter was horny and stuck at an all-boys school.

But they did happen again. And again. And again. And eventually Hunter gave up the pretense of pretending that each time would be the last. What he wouldn't do, however, was allow Jeff to tell anyone about their semi-relationship status, even Nick. That had lasted all of two days before Jeff had broken down and confided in his best friend. In Jeff's opinion it wasn't fair in the first place for Hunter to expect him not to confide in Nick. Nick had already known about their occasional hookups, and Hunter was well aware that Jeff and Nick told each other everything. Why shouldn't he be allowed to tell Nick that they were finally, kind of almost, dating?

Hunter hadn't seen it that way. He responded by immediately breaking up with Jeff and threatening to kick his ass if anyone else found out what had been going on between them. That hadn't worked out so well. The trouble was that Sebastian already knew – because of course Nick told Sebastian everything – and though Sebastian had been willing to keep Jeff and Hunter's occasional hookups and brief relationship a secret while it was happening, he was quick to out his rival once it was over. Jeff had never found out exactly what had motivated Sebastian. It had probably been a combination of misplaced loyalty to Jeff himself combined with protectiveness over Nick since anything that hurt Jeff tended to hurt Nick by extension. Of course Sebastian was also still kind of a dick back then and he might have simply wanted to ruin Hunter's life. Whatever the case, Sebastian had made sure that not only did the entire school find out that Hunter wasn't as straight as he claimed to be, but that Hunter's conservative family was also directly clued in to that fact.

Hunter had been devastated. He still had his Dalton scholarship and his parents fulfilled their legal obligations by continuing to send him money for food and basic expenses until he turned eighteen that April, but after that they had cut ties with him completely. As far as Jeff knew Hunter hadn't heard from them once in the years since. Jeff had expected Hunter to react with violent rage, but instead he had fallen into a deep, withdrawn depression.

Jeff had blamed himself for everything, for blabbing to Nick, for not stopping Sebastian, for getting involved with Hunter in the first place. Jeff knew firsthand how painful it was to be abandoned by family since he had gone through that same nightmare himself the summer before his freshman year at Dalton when his parents had found out he was gay. The difference was that Jeff had Nick and the Duvals to help him through the agonizing experience. Jeff and Nick had been best friends since grade school and by the time his family disowned him, Jeff was already closer with Nick, his sister Maggie, and their mom and dad than he was with his own parents and brother. The Duvals had taken him in and legally adopted him and as far as Jeff was concerned they were absolutely his true family.

Hunter hadn't had the luxury of a strong support system to fall back on, nor had he lost a biological family that he was already strained and distant with. From the little Jeff had been able to get him to open up about, he had gathered that Hunter actually had been close with parents and sisters. That he had known they wouldn't react well to his bisexuality, but that the severity of their reaction had caught him off guard.

Jeff had made it his personal mission to support Hunter and make him feel better during that difficult period in his life, and eventually, together with the ever-persistent, kindhearted Nick and a grudging, but mostly repentant, Sebastian, he had succeeded. By the time the boys had graduated from Dalton, Hunter was more or less back to his old self and by the time their senior trip was over Jeff and Hunter were a couple again. Of course in the intervening years Hunter had broken up with him more times than Jeff could count, but they had always gotten back together.

"May I have my phone back?" Jeff requested a few minutes later as they pulled onto the freeway that would take them to the other side of town, and to the bar where Hunter's work party was being held.

"Help yourself," Hunter answered with a smirk as he spread his legs.

Jeff laughed and leaned forward, groping Hunter far more than was necessary to retrieve the device from its position under his crotch. Hunter was clearly enjoying the attention so Jeff decided he might as well go all in while he was at it.

"Thank you for fucking me before we left," Jeff whispered in a low voice as he palmed Hunter's package through his slacks. "It was _so_ good." Jeff let his voice take on a needy, desperate quality. "Your body, especially that huge, amazing cock, is just incredible."

"I know," Hunter answered with a broad grin, his posture visibly relaxing as the last of his anger and tension faded away. He placed his hand over Jeff's and bucked his rapidly-swelling equipment against it a couple of times. "If you're lucky maybe I'll fuck you again when we get home."

"I sure hope so." Jeff added one more sigh of admiration and a final gentle squeeze before letting go.

As he sank back into his seat, Jeff had to fight to keep the amusement off his face. Hunter was intelligent and far from easy to manipulate, but he never failed to respond to compliments about his manhood or general sexual prowess. Jeff felt sneaky, and more than a little bit dirty, but his lewd words were worth the mild discomfort they caused him for the glowing positive effect they had on Hunter. His whole demeanor had shifted and he seemed downright cheerful now. Besides, if Hunter did get worked up again, well it wasn't as though Jeff would _mind_ having some more sex before bed.

"Oh, I have a text from Nick," Jeff remarked as he checked his phone.

"Of course you do. Heaven forbid either of you should try to exist separately." Hunter sneered and shook his head, but he didn't seem genuinely annoyed so Jeff ignored the comment in favor of reading his message.

Nick: Dont wry bout Hunts xmas party his cowrks r gonna luv u luv u

Jeff grinned at the short text and re-read it a couple of times. He found Nick's utter disregard for spelling and punctuation endearing and quintessentially his best friend. Nick was the only person he knew who still texted like he didn't have a full keyboard on his phone. The sweet message also helped alleviate some of Jeff's mounting anxiety over the impending social event.

Jeff: Thanks, Nicky! I wish you and Seb were gonna be there. Love you too.

Jeff took a deep breath and let it out slowly, hoping that Nick was right and that Hunter's coworkers would indeed like him.

**-000-**

Hunter's coworkers did not like him. In fact Jeff felt unwelcome within two minutes of walking through the door.

"So these two dumb blonds walk into a bar and – oh, hi Hunter." The young brunette woman turned away from her group and made a show of acting as though she had just seen them – even though Jeff had noticed her glancing at them when they walked in. She draped herself all over Hunter, her low-cut, glittering silver party dress dipping precariously low indeed.

"In the middle of joke, Chelsea?" Hunter asked as he wrapped his arm around her waist, breaking Jeff's heart just a little in the process.

"No sweetie, just narrating your arrival," Chelsea answered with a coquettish wink before laughing and patting his chest. She cast her gaze at Jeff. "And this must be the infamous James."

"Jj-Jeff," Jeff answered, his cheeks burning, He knew he was supposed to greet new people with a confident smile and brief eye contact, he had even practiced in the bathroom mirror that morning, but he found himself utterly intimidated by Chelsea. He stuck his hand out a little ways and stared at his feet while she shook it.

"Speak up, James. I can't hear you," Chelsea lilted as she gripped Jeff's palm, her other hand never leaving Hunter's neck.

"You're such a bitch, Chelsea," Hunter reproached, fond amusement coloring his tone. He pulled her slightly closer and smirked at Jeff. "She's just fucking with you, babe. She knows your name is Jeff."

Jeff nodded slightly, unsure how else to respond. Before he could stop himself he shuffled into place behind, rather than next to, Hunter. He inwardly cringed as the other people in the small group closed the circle, effectively shutting him out. There were five other people with Hunter and Chelsea, but no one else had even bothered to talk to him and Hunter hadn't made any introductions. Jeff looked around awkwardly and hunched in on himself, lost for what to do. Hunter seemed oblivious to his presence. Chelsea was still clinging to him as he chatted with a middle-aged man in an expensive suit.

Jeff flinched as he refocused on Chelsea's voice a moment later and overheard the tail end of what she was saying to the girl next to her. "– must really like Christmas, dressed like that."

The other girl, a redhead wearing too much makeup and a blue dress as skimpy as Chelsea's, giggled and whispered something Jeff couldn't hear. Then they both looked at him and laughed. Jeff felt another surge of heat burn his face and he folded his arms over Hunter's stupid, godawful Christmas sweater.

"I have to go to the restroom," Jeff whispered into Hunter's ear, desperate to get away from the humiliating circumstance he found himself in.

Hunter let go of Chelsea and raised a hand to his ear, covering it from Jeff's intrusion. He turned and shot Jeff an irritated look. "Fine, go ahead. What do you want, a hall pass?" He returned his attention to the man he had been speaking to.

Before Jeff could leave Chelsea winked at him and laid her head against Hunter's shoulder. Hunter didn't look at her, but he responded by returning his arm to her waist.

Jeff felt like he had been kicked in the chest. Not only wasn't Hunter making any effort whatsoever to include Jeff in the conversation, but he was returning all of Chelsea's flirtations. He was treating her more like his date than he was Jeff.

Jeff slunk away, wishing he could just crawl under a table and not come out until Hunter was ready to leave. He didn't even need to use the restroom; he just wanted somewhere private to compose himself and kill a little time.

Unfortunately, he couldn't actually find the restroom. The bar had been rented out by Hunter's company for the Christmas party, but it was crowded nonetheless. Jeff was too nervous about accidentally making eye contact with someone, especially someone who might turn out to be like Chelsea, to spend too long looking in any one direction for a sign or other indication of where the restroom might have been. Instead he just kept walking, trying to act like he had a destination in mind.

But the longer he walked the more self-conscious he became. He felt like everyone was staring at him, wondering who the creep in the weird sweater circling the bar was. He thought about just skipping the restroom altogether and going back to Hunter and his friends, but what if they had seen him wandering around aimlessly? Then they would know he was too big a dork to even find a restroom on his own.

At last in desperation he coughed and awkwardly approached a middle-aged woman standing near the bar by herself. He screwed up his confidence to ask her for directions.

"Ex-excuse me..." Jeff trailed off when she glanced up at him with less than a welcoming expression. She visibly eyed his sweater, scowling at it like it had just insulted her thighs and called her stupid. When he didn't continue speaking she cocked an impatient eyebrow at him. "I don't w-want to b-bother you, b-but–"

"I'm really not interested, kid," she said, picking up her cocktail and flouncing away.

Jeff gaped after her. He felt the urge to yell that _he_ really wasn't interested either, but that would have required yelling, and Jeff didn't yell, especially not in crowded bars.

Then he noticed someone a few feet away opening a door that led out onto a patio. Jeff made a beeline for the door. The patio had to be better than the inside of the bar.

Once outside he was relieved to find that there were relatively few other people on the patio, just some smokers and a handful of heavily drunk individuals. Granted, as soon as the first gust of wind blew he found himself chilled to the bone, but cold, nearly-alone, and ignored outside was preferable to being warm, over-crowded, and mocked inside.

He took out his phone, hoping he would find a message from Hunter inquiring where he was and if he was okay. He didn't.

Jeff quickly scrolled to Nick's number, desperate to hear a friendly voice.

"What are you wearing?" Sebastian panted into the phone as soon as he answered.

"A hideous Christmas sweater," Jeff responded.

Sebastian was silent for a second. "You've never had phone sex before have you, Jeff?"

"It's Hunter's," Jeff said, ignoring his friend's predictably lecherous behavior. He knew it was just for effect anyway; Sebastian would never cheat on Nick, much less with _Jeff_.

"I assumed it was Hunter's. You have much better taste."

"I know right?!" Jeff declared, feeling somewhat vindicated. "He thought it would be funny to make me wear it."

"Oh I'm sure it's very funny. You should send me a pic."

"Everyone hates it and no one likes me," Jeff whined.

"Okay. Then why don't you take it off..._then_ send me a pic."

"Sebastian!" Jeff chided, annoyed but not surprised by his friend's flippant attitude.

Sebastian laughed. "Trust me, Jeff, everyone will like you better without your shirt on. Hell, you're my brother-in-law and even I like you better without your shirt on."

"That's because you're gross."

"It's because you're hot."

Another blush warmed Jeff's cheeks. "Can I talk to Nick?"

"Nope."

"Please."

Sebastian chuckled. "He's in the shower."

"Oh." Jeff sighed and frowned, "Okay, I guess I'll talk to you later then."

"Jeff, wait," Sebastian said quickly, stopping him from hanging up. When he spoke again his tone had changed and he sounded legitimately concerned. "Are you okay?"

"No," Jeff admitted, his voice cracking just a little bit. He blamed the cold and the fact that he was starting to shiver.

"Tell me everything," Sebastian requested in a gentle voice.

Jeff smiled slightly into the phone. Sebastian really was a good friend, and with the exception of Nick, Jeff was probably the only person he treated with as much consistent kindness. Jeff sank into one of the nearby cold metal chairs and began recounting everything to Sebastian. He started with the disturbance in his and Hunter's apartment parking lot and the subsequent argument they had had. Then he told him all about Chelsea and the way Hunter had flirted with her and ignored Jeff. He finished his story by recounting his awkward, self-conscious experience wandering the bar and the humiliating reaction he'd gotten when he tried to ask that middle-aged woman for directions.

"Stay on the line. I'm going to call Hunter right now on my phone and tell him to pull his head out of his ass," Sebastian said.

"Seb, don't!" Jeff insisted, panicking at the notion. "He needs tonight to go well for work."

"What he needs is to quit being a giant douche and take care of his boyfriend."

Before Jeff could answer he heard Nick in the background asking what was going on. When Sebastian came back on the line he said, "We're coming to get you."

"No, that's okay. I just needed to vent," Jeff answered. He really didn't want to make a scene, or upset Hunter by leaving with Sebastian and Nick.

Sebastian growled and Jeff wasn't sure if it was directed at him or Nick. There was another brief background conversation, then Sebastian said, "I'm giving you to Nick before he pulls my ear off, but we _are_ going to figure something out about your living arrangement."

Jeff's stomach clinched. He was relieved to hear that Sebastian intended to do something about his and Hunter's frightening home environment, but he was terrified about how Hunter would react and angry at himself for doing exactly what Hunter had asked him not to do by involving Sebastian. Another wave of nausea-inducing anxiety rolled over him as he wondered if Hunter would break up with for this.

"–with tumescent Xenaphiles in that bar?" Nick was asking frantically when Jeff refocused his attention.

"Err, what?"

"You know what I mean," Nick insisted, then asked again in a worried tone, "were there any?"

"I'm sorry, Nick. I didn't hear you at all. Please come again?"

Nick immediately bombarded Jeff with a dozen more half-formed discombobulated questions, most of which Jeff was able to answer thanks only to his intimate familiarity with how Nick thought and spoke. Although he never did quite figure out why Nick had been so concerned about the possibility that the bar might be filled with horny _Xena_ fans.

Jeff retold his full story for the second time, a process which took longer, but was ultimately more satisfying since Nick asked more questions and made more comments than Sebastian had. Once Jeff had finished, Nick again tried to convince Jeff to let him and Sebastian come and get him, but Jeff begged off the request, insisting that he would be fine. He hung up shortly after, genuinely feeling better after sharing his troubles with his two closest friends and getting their sympathy and support. It had also helped just to get out of the noisy, crowded environment in the bar and spend some quieter time in peace. Of course he was freezing now and he wasn't sure he'd ever be able to feel his fingers, toes, or the tip of his nose again, but it had been worth it.

The only emotional downside for Jeff was that he had been gone for close to an hour and Hunter still hadn't bothered to call or text him to find out where he had gone. It made Jeff feel like his boyfriend couldn't have cared less what he was doing or what had happened to him. He tried to take solace in the belief that Hunter was so busy schmoozing his coworkers and the company executives that he had lost track of time.

Jeff slowly rose to his feet and took a few seconds to vigorously shake his hands and rub them together, trying to recover some warmth. He hoped once he got back inside Hunter would wrap an arm around – as he done with Chelsea, Jeff ruminated – and allow him to cling quietly to his side for the remainder of the night.

Unfortunately once Jeff had finally worked up the courage to go back into the bar, he couldn't actually find Hunter. He made a few more awkward circuits around the bar, and received a derisive eye roll and hair flip from the woman he'd encountered early who thought he was trying to pick her up, but his boyfriend was nowhere to be seen.

Jeff sent Hunter a text asking where he was, but got no response. He waited a few minutes and tried again, still no response. Eventually he decided to bite the bullet and call him, hoping he wouldn't be interrupting anything.

"Hello," Hunter answered, sounding distracted.

"Hey," Jeff responded quietly. "I couldn't find you."

"Yeah I" – Hunter fumbled with the phone – "left."

Jeff's eyes widened in surprise and he felt himself starting to panic. "You left? Why? Where are you?"

"At Chelsea's."

Before Jeff could fully process the information he heard the sound of moaning and panting in the background, a female's moaning and panting. His blood ran cold, chilling him far more than his hour outside had.

"Look now's not really a good time. I'll text you when we're on the way back." Hunter promptly hung up before Jeff could make any sort of response.

Jeff numbly walked back out onto the bar's patio and collapsed into the same chair he had previously been sitting in. He stared at his phone, half expecting and fully pleading for Hunter to call him back and explain what was going on, to set Jeff's world back on its axis.

Jeff lost track of time as he sat there, utterly nonplussed. It just didn't seem possible that what he had heard could have been real. Sure, he had been jealous of Chelsea's obvious flirtations earlier in the evening, and he had been hurt by Hunter's apparent receptiveness, but it had never occurred to him that anything might actually happen between them.

Hunter had often dated girls during his and Jeff's frequent break ups, and on a few occasions Hunter had been so quick to start seeing someone else that it had left Jeff wondering if he had broken up with him to date the new girl. Yet, despite all of that Jeff didn't think Hunter had ever actually had sex with anyone else while they were together. They also hadn't broken up at all in nearly two years, not since their junior year of college. Jeff had been beginning to think that perhaps that phase was over and that they were legitimately on firm ground.

Jeff felt himself starting to shake as tears stung his eyes. He quickly covered his face and coughed, trying to conceal his distress. There was only a handful of other people on the patio, but Jeff felt self-conscious. When he couldn't stop the tears, he held his breath and stood up. He quickly walked to the edge of the patio away from everyone else and leaned against a tree. He held his phone to his ear as a cover, hoping that anyone who saw him would ignore him.

He thought about calling Nick back, or maybe Sandra Duval, his adoptive mom. However, the idea of telling anyone made him sick to his stomach. He didn't think he would be able to get the words out, certainly not without breaking down again. He also couldn't bear the thought of anyone knowing, even Nick or his mom. He knew they'd be furious at Hunter, and he didn't want them to hate him. He was worried Ian Duval, his adoptive dad, wouldn't be able to forgive Hunter at all. It had taken him the entire last two years to warm back up to Hunter and trust him again after all their numerous break ups. He shuddered to think what his sister Maggie would do. She would probably team up with Sebastian to do something horrible to Hunter.

Jeff felt his first recognizable twinges of anger. How could Hunter do this to him? How could he abandon him at a party and go off and screw around? How could he put Jeff through all this and be so shameless about it? Sure, Jeff knew he pretty much let Hunter get away with anything, but this was _way_ over the line.

Jeff wasn't sure how long he spent leaning against that tree, cycling through feeling furious, devastated, humiliated, terrified, and hopeless, but Hunter didn't text him when he was on his way back to the bar. Instead he called him when he arrived.

Jeff sniffed and wiped away the last of his tears, determined that Hunter wouldn't know he had been crying.

"Hello," he said in what he hoped was a cold, emotionless voice.

"Hey babe, where are you?" Hunter asked, sounding cheerful. Jeff's clinched his jaw in anger at Hunter's evident complete lack of remorse.

"Tree," Jeff spat out, too upset to risk saying anything more.

"You mean the big Christmas tree by the door? I didn't see you."

"Outside."

"Well come in. I'm too drunk to go looking for you." Hunter hung up.

Jeff huffed and shoved his phone into his pocket. That was typical Hunter behavior. He never wasted his time with things like goodbyes, or bothering to get Jeff's assent to a request. It was always just commands with Hunter.

Jeff walked back inside and stormed up to Hunter as he spotted him at the bar knocking back a drink. He didn't delude himself into believing he was actually going to tell Hunter off. They were in public and Jeff just couldn't bring himself to make such a big scene or draw that much scrutiny, but he was sure as hell going to give Hunter the mother of all dirty looks.

What he didn't expect was Hunter's reaction upon seeing him. He threw his arms around Jeff in a tight hug and kissed his neck.

"There you are!" Hunter grinned, wide and sloppy, as he clung to Jeff's shoulders. He leaned in close and whispered, "I'm drunk," stumbling as though to lend credibility to his claim.

Jeff gritted his teeth and reluctantly wrapped a steadying arm around Hunter. Pissed as he was at him, he didn't want him to loose his balance and hurt himself.

"How could you do this?" Jeff demanded

Hunter shrugged and gave him another lopsided smile. "Lots of Crown and Coke."

"That's no excuse to–"

"Clarington, do you have a way home?"

Jeff looked up and saw the middle-aged man in the expensive suit whom Hunter had been earnestly speaking with earlier. The evening seemed to have etched a deep scowl across his features. Jeff could relate, but he found himself intimidated nevertheless. He felt self-conscious holding Hunter in front of this man, even if it was for strictly practical reasons.

"Yes sir. Jeff's gonna drive," Hunter answered, his head lolling back onto Jeff's shoulder.

"Ah, of course, the spousal equivalent," the man remarked, clearly contemptuous of the phrase.

Jeff was slightly surprised Hunter didn't correct him and downplay the significance of their relationship. He must have either been too drunk to care or too drunk to notice.

"That reminds me, where's Chelsea?"

Jeff flinched. Had the man really just referred to that slut as Hunter's 'spousal equivalent' right in front of Jeff like that?

"She went home," Hunter answered.

The man nodded. "Okay. Well, see you Monday."

"That was my boss. He's kind of old fashioned, but he likes me and Chelsea," Hunter whispered to Jeff as soon as the man had left. He took Jeff's hand and started pulling him toward the door.

Jeff allowed himself to be led through the crowd. As they went he studied the back of Hunter's head, his broad shoulders, the strong feeling of his fingers gripping Jeff's. Jeff let out a small sob, which he quickly covered with his free hand. He loved Hunter so much. He was Jeff's beautiful warrior, strong, fierce, and confident, everything Jeff wasn't and knew he could never be. The thought of him with someone else made Jeff feel like he had been gutted.

"You should drive," Hunter said as they exited the bar and he let go of Jeff's hand. He fished the keys out of his pocket and passed them to Jeff.

"Did I do something?" Jeff asked feebly, staring at the ground. Had Hunter been trying to get revenge or to punish him? Was he dissatisfied about something in their relationship? Did he simply need a woman's touch. Jeff wracked his brain for an answer.

Hunter grabbed Jeff's arm and yanked him toward the car. "Nah, I'm just drunk."

Just drunk. Jeff nodded and swallowed. He supposed that was the reason for many affairs.

On the way home Hunter took off his seatbelt and laid his head in Jeff's lap. Jeff tensed. Of all the times Hunter could have chosen to be affectionate this one was far from suitable.

"Sit up," Jeff said, trying to push Hunter away with one hand while he held the steering wheel with the other. "If we hit something you'll get hurt."

Hunter chuckled and grabbed Jeff's hand with both of his. He placed a kiss on Jeff's knuckles then held their hands in place against his throat. "So don't hit anything."

Jeff sighed and grazed his thumb across Hunter's jaw. He wondered if this was Hunter's way of trying to apologize. A little while later Hunter shifted across the seats, going from a supine position to resting on his side. His face resting against the baggy, green fleece sweater.

"Scratchy," He complained before lifting the bottom of Jeff's sweater and shirt and burrowing underneath.

"That tickles, stop!" Jeff exclaimed as Hunter's nose brushed across his navel. He tried again to push him away, but he was too worried about hurting him or losing control of the car to make much progress.

"Mmm, warm," Hunter murmured into Jeff's skin, barely intelligible. A few minutes later Hunter's breathing deepened and Jeff knew he had fallen asleep.

Jeff drove the rest of the way back to their apartment in silence, pondering what to do. It seemed cruel to try to ambush him with a conversation tonight about what had happened. He was obviously too exhausted and drunk.

Jeff frowned. He knew his excuse was at least half bullshit. He was simply looking for a way to put off the confrontation. He wondered if he absolutely had to do it at all. He knew Hunter loved him, and Jeff didn't want to end their relationship. Maybe they could just pretend it had never happened. Anxiety and pain roiled through Jeff as he considered the possibility that it might happen again, especially if they didn't address it.

Jeff pulled into a space in front of their apartment, his decision still unmade.

"We're home," he said softly, tugging his sweater to the side so that he could run a hand through Hunter's hair.

Hunter groaned and sat partially up before collapsing against Jeff's thigh again. "Maybe I should just sleep out here."

Jeff briefly considered the possibility. It almost didn't seem like such a bad idea. He wasn't really keen to get into bed with Hunter. But...

"You can't. It's not safe."

Hunter groaned again.

"Hold on," Jeff said as he first looked around to make sure there was no one lurking in the parking lot, then opened his door and slowly climbed out, gently easing Hunter's head down onto the seat. He closed the door then hurried around the car to Hunter's side.

Jeff opened Hunter's door and took a few seconds to appraise the situation, trying to figure out the best way to liberate him from the car's cabin. He knew he would need to hurry; Hunter looked to be on the verge of passing out again.

Jeff grabbed Hunter's waist and hooked his fingers into his belt loops, intent on pulling his lower half out of the car first then helping him stand.

Hunter snickered. "Fine, but you have to do all the work," he said as he arched his hips and wiggled, causing his pants to slide down slightly.

"Hunt, no, I'm trying to get you inside," Jeff said, attempting in vain to push Hunter's pants back up.

"I need to get hard first," Hunter answered, rubbing himself clumsily through his underwear and the top of his pants.

"Watch your head," Jeff instructed, grabbing Hunter's legs instead and resolving to pull him out that way.

"Head? Yeah, gimme head," Hunter agreed. Fortunately he assumed his usual blowjob position, hands folded behind his head. Jeff decided that was as close as they were going to get and yanked him out until the backs of his thighs were resting on the edge of the seat.

"Ooh, somebody's feelin' feisty."

After a good bit more wrangling Jeff eventually managed to get Hunter to wrap his arms around his neck, and then slowly eased him out of the car, pulling him to his feet. Jeff cringed as he caught a whiff on Hunter's shirt. It smelled like women's perfume.

"You smell like her," Jeff growled, a wave of anger crashing over him.

"Huh? Wha?" Hunter asked as he collapsed against Jeff while Jeff finished locking the car.

"I can smell Chelsea's perfume on you," Jeff said, already more sad again than angry.

"Oh. Nice, huh? You should get some," Hunter mumbled.

Jeff forced down the urge to shove Hunter off of him, reminding himself that Hunter would probably get hurt if he did.

Once they were inside the apartment Hunter seemed to recover much of his senses. He went to the bedroom on his own and began stripping off his clothes. Jeff likewise stripped down, but he changed into pajamas. Sometimes they slept naked, and Hunter obviously intended to, but Jeff wanted the extra layer of protection the fabric would afford him.

"What about sex?" Hunter asked, lying sideways across the bed and beginning to stroke himself.

"Haven't you had enough?" Jeff snapped, surprising himself with the vitriol in his tone.

Hunter either didn't notice the hostility or wasn't bothered it. He grinned and shook his head. "Never!"

Jeff crossed his arms and glared at him. Eventually Hunter sat up and shuffled backward on the bed to his side.

"Okay, we don't have to, but come here," Hunter requested spreading his arms and looking at Jeff expectantly.

"I'm not in the mood," Jeff repeated, hesitantly getting into bed but staying as far to his side as possible.

"Seriously, just cuddles," Hunter insisted. His voice took on that same seldom-heard vulnerable quality he'd used in the car on the way to the party. "I want to be close to you."

Jeff wanted to resist, but damn Hunter for always getting his way. Jeff couldn't let him put himself out there emotionally like that – something Hunter rarely did – and then just reject him. He rolled over and laid his head against Hunter's chest.

Hunter wrapped his arms around him and nuzzled the top of Jeff's head with his chin. He sighed contentedly. "I have a confession."

Jeff stiffened, bracing himself for the worst. "Go on."

Hunter squeezed him and shook his head, his chin grazing back and forth over Jeff's head. "Nah, not tonight. I'm still kinda drunk. It's more of a sober confession."

Jeff nodded and gave in to the urge to relax fully into Hunter's embrace. He could almost respect Hunter for wanting to wait until he was sober to have this conversation.

**-000-**

**End Note: Please let me know what you guys thought of this first part. If you've read my story, "Can't Fight These Feelings" this is obviously totally AU in terms of plot and background, but Jeff and Nick are supposed to be more or less the same, and this is my first time attempting to write from Jeff's (rather than Nick's) POV, so if you've read CFTF I'm curious if Jeff "felt right" so to speak.**

**This was also my first attempt at _ever_ writing Hunter at all so I hope I captured him okay. Anyway reviews and feedback much appreciated and I'll try to get the second half posted ASAP.**


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